


Little Drummer Boy

by tprillahfiction



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series, Star Trek: Reboot
Genre: Christmas Themes, Fluff, M/M, Schmoop, k/s advent 2012
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-05
Updated: 2013-01-05
Packaged: 2017-11-23 17:30:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/624735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tprillahfiction/pseuds/tprillahfiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for K/S Advent 2012 for the prompt: Academy Fic.  Cadet Kirk goes late night caroling.  No one will open their door to him until he knocks on Professor Spock's door.  Featuring: Fluffy-PWP, costume porn, Victorian caroling, humor, silliness, first time.  Warning: PWP.  Use of modern day social media.   For: awarrington.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Drummer Boy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [awarrington](https://archiveofourown.org/users/awarrington/gifts).



“Jim!” McCoy bellowed out. “Would you mind not leaving your fucking crap on the floor? I keep tripping over your shit.”

Jim lay back on his bed, watching the man scramble around. “They’re clothes, Bones. Dirty.”

“Yeah, dirty clothes belong in the hamper. Not in the middle of the floor. I’m a doctor, goddamnit, not your personal maid.” Still, the man picked up the clothes and chucked them into Jim's hamper, then resumed rushing around.

“Where you goin, Bones?”

Bones glanced up mid-shoving some items into a small duffel bag, looking like a deer caught in headlights. “Oh. Home.”

Jim frowns. “Home? Home, home?”

“Yeah, home, home. Georgia. Gotta catch the last transport out tonight.”

“But Bones, it’s the first day of winter break!”

“So?”

“So...you know...three weeks off, nothing to do. I thought you and I’d hit some bars, then do some drunken Christmas caroling. I have my Victorian costume all pressed and ready.”

“Can’t Jim. Sorry.” Bones resumed his frantic packing. “I gotta git outta Dodge.”

“So you, uh, seeing your mom...or the ex-wife?”

“Not exactly.”

“So,” Jim folded his arms, “why are you going back to Georgia instead of spending the winter break with me?”

Bones at that very moment appeared like a lost little boy. “You know I have a daughter, Jim. Right?”

“Uh, yeah, course I do. Little girl, right?”

“Only to me. She’s seventeen.”

“And you’re--”

“Thirty five.”

“Damn, you got started young.”

“Yeah, she’s the whole reason why I got married in the first place.” Bones finished up packing his meager possessions and zipped up the duffel, slinging it aside. 

“So you’re going home to visit her. Seventeen, huh? Is she hot?”

“I’ll pretend like you never said that, alright?”

“I’m only kidding, Bones. Goddamn you’re in a snit.”

“Yeah. She’s having a kid. Due tomorrow. So I uh...wanted to be there.”

“What do you mean, ‘she’s having a kid’?”

“She’s pregnant, Jim. My daughter is pregnant. You do know what ‘pregnant’ means?”

“Bones...” Jim broke out into an astonished grin. “That means you’re gonna be a grandpa.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“Fucking hell, a thirty-five year old grandpa!”

“No shit.”

“Jesus, you’re gonna have to take up knitting! You’ll have to wear your pants up to here! And slippers, you’ll need some slippers! And a pipe!”

Bones jumped up, grabbing his duffel bag and stormed off to the kitchen. “Fuck you!” Jim followed to find the man sitting at the table, beer bottle grasped in one hand, head in the other. “This wouldn’t have happened had I been there. This is all my fault.”

“Aw, Bones.” Jim stood behind the man, patting him on the shoulder. “You’ll be a great grandpa.”

Bones looked up as he polished off his beer. “No, Jim, I'm not that old. Just a grandpa.”

“No, I meant, you’ll be a wonderful grandpa. You’ll see.”

“Yeah, about as wonderful as I am a father?” Bones spat.

“Aw, Bones.” The pats turned into massaging the man’s shoulders. “It’ll work out. Everything happens for a reason.”

Bones cleared his throat and stood up. “I already know how to knit. I’m a surgeon.”

“We’ll... there you go, Bones.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’d better get goin’, Jim.”

“Hey. I’ll walk you to the station.”

“No, no, no. I need to do some thinking, clear my head a little.” He suddenly grabbed Jim by the arm and squeezed it hard, almost desperately. “Don’t get into any trouble, kid. I won’t be here to patch you back together. Don’t make me worry about you, alright. Be safe for three weeks. Can you do that?”

“I’ll be fine, Bones. Just hurry back, will ya?”

Bones nodded, chucked the empty bottle into the recycler and grabbed his duffle. “Bye Jim.”

“Bye, Grandpa!”

Bones flipped him off and went out the door.

* * *

Jim sat at the kitchen table, nursing his own beer. Their dorm building was entirely too quiet, everyone else having cleared out as fast as they could, just like Bones had. The normally noisy hallways were eerily dead.

He headed over to the local dive restaurant officially named ‘Golden Burger’ but Bones affectionately referred to it as: ‘Death Burger’. He got himself the burger special, fries and a coke for his dinner. Bones would have a fit if he saw this heart attack on a plate. Jim chuckled at that a moment before he glumly noted the christmas tree, the decorations and LED lights strung around the window. It didn’t normally snow in San Francisco, not like Iowa, but it got damned cold here. The restaurant seemed even colder, quiet and lonely. He buttoned another button on his peacoat and wound his scarf tighter around himself. 

He glanced up when he noted some Christmas carolers standing outside the plate glass window singing:

_"Silent Night, Holy Night_

_All is calm, All is bright,_

_Round yon virgin, Mother and child,_

_Holy Infant so tender and mind_

_Sleep in heavenly peace!_

_Sleep in heavenly peace."_

The carolers were right about that. It certainly was a silent night tonight in Academy Village, San Francisco. Nothing to do. Nobody around. 

The carolers sounded pretty good and during their set he’d briefly entertained the thought of going out there and asking to join their group. However, they were a strolling foursome and in a traditional SATB a cappella (Soprano, Alto, Tenor, Bass) caroling choir you only needed four members, really. 

He, being a tenor, supposed they could have used two tenors because theirs was admittedly a little weak. But the group was dressed in contemporary clothing. Festive yes, but still contemporary. Red sweatshirts, black pants and green and red striped scarfs and dorking looking santa hats. 

He considered himself a little bit of a caroling snob, having been in one of the best Victorian Caroling Choirs in Iowa, award winning in fact, all throughout high school. He had never been without his purple velvet coat, his top hat, his striped pants. Therefore, contemporary dressed caroling choirs were not going to cut it for him. Contemporary style caroling choirs might as well not bother at all, as far as he was concerned. Hey, didn’t he say he was a Victorian Caroling snob? 

Maybe there was some other true Victorian style carolers in the City As he’d told Bones, he did have that caroling costume hanging up in his closet, pressed and ready to go, just in case. Maybe he could go online and look for some. There had to be some quartets wandering around needing members. Somebody around here was bound to sing bass as well as Bones could. And also there’d be two hot chicks singing soprano and alto parts. Perfect. 

The Contemporary Carolers went one way, and Jim went the other, rapidly back to the dorm. It was getting colder. The time was now 20:05 and if he was going to find any Victorian Quartets, he’d have to hustle.

* * *

“Well, fuck! FUCK!” After a brief online Facebook and Craigslist search, Jim discovered that any available Victorian caroling quartets in town were all filled up, needing no new members and were already out caroling for the evening. 

What the hell was he thinkin’ doing this at the last moment?

Well, shit. He would just have to go out and sing the fucking Christmas carols himself. It wasn’t his normal M.O. as he was used to being part of a quartet, but goddammit there was nothing else to do. 

Now after his fourth beer, this was sounding like a better and better idea. Solo Victorian caroling. He’d be like the fucking “Little Drummer Boy” or like a busker on BART or Metro. Yeah, make a little booze money, Bones would be proud of him. Probably should donate the money to charity, though.

He looked at the chrono. 20:45. Shit, better hurry up and get ready if he was gonna do this.

He took a long shower soaping himself up, rincing himself off. He then carefully dressed in a frilly shirt, black trousers (he didn’t have those striped trousers any longer, shame) green and red stripped socks and his uniform boots. He did have his purple Velvet knee length coat and his top hat and his red and green striped knitted scarf. He donned those, and gave himself the once over in the full length mirror. Perfect. He was even more muscular since joining the academy and quite frankly the outfit looked fantastic on him. 

He dug into the pocket of the frock coat and got out his tuner. He blew on the electronic device and a note sounded: B minor. It being the most lovely and perfect note in the universe. Awesome. 

Now all he needed was a little bit of make-up. He found some in the bathroom drawer, left from some girl who’d stayed over from some party or another. Bright red lipstick. He drew red circles on each cheek, then painted his lips bright red. He looked like a toy. Perfect. Goddamn.

He ran through some vocal exercises to warm up his voice. 

Now all that was needed was his fingerless gloves. He also required a sprig of festive holly for his top hat and lapel. He got that from the holly bush in the courtyard. 

Now it was time for him to go perform. He retrieved the PADD that had the selection of carol sheet music stored on it, stuck it into a holder to make it look like the old fashioned music sleeve. HE had those fuckers memorized but it was traditional for Carolers to carry their sheet music with them. 

James T Kirk, the lone tenor. Another wave of loneliness hit him but he stuffed the feeling down and strode off of the Academy grounds and into the Village itself. Time was 21:22. Not too late yet but he needed to get started.

In the Village square, he stood outside a house, blew on his tuner, rang the doorbell and began singing loudly:

_"The First Noel, the angel did say,_

_Was to certain poor shepherds_

_in fields as they lay,_

_in fields as they lay, keeping their sheep,_

_on a cold winter’s night that was so deep._

_Noel, noel, noel, noel,_

_Born is the King of Israel!”_

He trailed off when the door did not open. He moved onto the next house.

_“Deck the halls with boughs of holly, Fa la la la la la la la!_

_Tis the season to be jolly, Fa la la la la la la la!_

_Don we now our gay apparel, Fa la la la la la la la!_

_Troll the ancient yuletide carol, Fa la la la la la la la la!”_

That door did not open for him either. No matter. He would move on to the next house:

_“Frosty the snowman was a jolly happy soul,_

_with a corncob pipe and a button nose and two eyes made out of coal,_

_Frosty the snowman is a fairytale they say,_

_He was made of snow, but the children know how he came to life one day,_

_There must have been some magic in that old silk hat they found,_

_For when they placed it on his head he began to dance around!_

_Oh frosty the snowman was alive as he could be,_

_and the children say he could laugh and play,_

_just the same as you and me.”_

They did not answer the door either.

He’d made it to the end of the row of houses and nothing. 

He decided to head to the town square. He stood in front of the water fountain near the bank and sang out:

_“Come they told me_

_Pa rum pum pum pum_

_A new born King to see_

_Pa rum pum pum pum_

_Our finest gifts we bring_

_Pa rum pum pum pum,_

_To lay before the king,_

_Pa rum pum pum pum_

_rum pum pum pum_

_rum pum pum pum,_

_So to honor him,_

_Pa rum pum pum pum_

_When we come.”_

A window suddenly opened out in a nearby upstairs apartment. “Hey shut up, down there!”

Just for that he sang an alternate version in French:

_“Ser la route_

_Pa Ram Pam Pam Pam_

_Petit tambour s’en va_

_Pa Ram Pam Pam Pam_

_Il sent son coeur qui bat_

_Pam Ram Pam Pam Pam_

_Au rythme de ses pas!_

_Pa Ram Pam Pam Pam_

_Ram pam pam Pam_

_Ram pam pam pam_

_Oi petit enfant_

_Pa ram pam pam pam_

_Ou vas-tu?”_

That earned him a projectile aimed at him from the window. He stepped aside so it wouldn’t hit him. It landed at his feet. A rotten orange.

“Merry Christmas!” he yelled out but moved on. He couldn’t allow his Velvet frock coat to get damaged by rotten fruit. Pearls before swine. Pearls before swine.

He went through the town, singing his heart out. Nobody would open their doors to him the lone tenor and his christmas caroling. 

The time was now 23:45. He made his way back to the Academy grounds and the apartments around the perimeter. This, according to the signage, was professors and commanding officers territory. He knew it was getting late but somebody had to be home and take pity on him and open the door and listen to his joyous , heartfelt singing.

He knocked on a door and began a carol:

 _“Grandma got run over by a reindeer--”_ He found himself delving into the darker Carols this time round, feeding into his increasingly foul mood.

_“Walking from our house on Christmas Eve,_

_You can say theres’s no such thing as Santa_

_But as for me and Grandpa, we believe._

_She’d been drinkin too much egg nog_

_And we begged her not to go_

_But she left her medication_

_so she stumbled out the door into the snow._

_When they found her Christmas morning’_

_at the scene of the attack_

_there were hoof prints on her forehead_

_and incriminating Claus marks on her back.”_

A gruff voice called out through the closed door: “If you do not cease that noise and leave the premises, I shall call the Academy police!” 

Sheesh. “Alright Alright, I’m going, I’m going!”

He walked a short distance then stopped in front of another apartment complex. He selected another apartment door. He rang the door-chime and began to sing. Another carol to reflect his mood, as they probably wouldn’t open the door to him, anyway:

_“You’re a mean one, Mr. Grinch._

_You really are a heel,_

_You’re as cuddly as a cactus, you’re as charming as an eel, Mr. Grinch,_

_You’re a bad banana with a greasy black peel!_

_"You’re a monster, Mr. Grinch_

_Your heart’s an empty hole,_

_Your brain is full of spiders--”_

The front door opened. Jim halted in mid stanza. 

Oh shit. 

Professor Spock stood in the doorway, the Vulcan bio-physics instructor. The bastard who’d only given him a B+ instead of an A on the final. Professor Spock was clad, very somberly, in his black Academy instructor’s uniform, eyebrow raised so high it nearly disappeared through his neat little black bangs. 

Maybe the professor wouldn't recognize him, he was wearing make-up and dressed in this get-up.

"James T. Kirk," Professor Spock said.

“Uh...” Jim choked.

“Singing,” Professor Spock said quietly. “I heard singing. Something about a Grinch.”

“Uh...uh...” Jim said, again.

“Was that you, Cadet?”

“Yes,” Jim finally breathed out. “I uh...God...I’m sorry, Sir.”

“It is rather late, Cadet. And cold outside.”

“Yeah. I know.” He rubbed his gloved hands together. “Just uh, trying to spread a little Christmas cheer that’s all.” He began to back away. 

“I did not give you leave, Cadet.”

Jim gulped. “Sir.” He stood at attention, rooted in spot and waited to be chewed out.

“Well, Cadet. If you are at my door to sing a Christmas Carol...as you are obviously quite prepared to do, being as you are clad in a purple Velvet frock coat and top hat, striped scarf and gloves. I must suggest you continue the song.”

“I’ll pick another,” Jim said.

“Negative, Cadet. I prefer you to finish the one you started.”

With another gulp, Jim did:

_"You're a foul one, Mr. Grinch,  
You have termites in your smile!  
You have all the tender sweetness of a seasick crocodile, Mr. Grinch!  
Given a choice between the two you'd take the seasick crocodile._

_You nauseate me, Mr. Grinch,  
With a nauseous super 'Naus',  
You're a crooked dirty jockey and you drive a crooked hoss, Mr. Grinch!  
Your soul is an appalling dump heap overflowing with the most disgraceful  
assortment of rubbish imagineable mangled up in a tangled up knot!_

_You're a foul one, Mr. Grinch,  
You're a nasty wasty skunk,  
Your heart is full of unwashed socks, your soul is full of gunk, Mr. Grinch!_

_The three words that describe you are as follows and I quote:  
'Stink, stank, stunk!"_

He finished and stood there, horrified, with head down in shame. 

“Interesting,” Professor Spock said. “And rather insulting to the Grinch.”

“Well. He deserves it."

"Why?"

"Because he's evil,” Jim blurted out.

“Tell me. What does a Grinch do to make him so evil?”

“He steals Christmas presents. And decorations and anything else to do with Christmas. He wants to push it all off a cliff.”

“Ah, that is rather evil, I must agree. Is the Grinch not green?”

“Uh...yeah he is.”

“What a coincidence. My blood is green.”

“Oh...yeah, you being Vulcan and all...I uh--”

“I am only half Vulcan, Cadet. My mother is human. However my blood is still green. Presumably like the Grinch.”

“That’s not why...that’s not why I picked the song. It was a coincidence, the song choice. And you’re not a Grinch. Not at all. Uh...” Jim looked up at the Vulcan, cleared his throat, something a singer should never do to their vocal chords.

"Not a very nice song for Christmas," Spock noted.

"It sure isn't. But it's from the movie. Ever seen the Grinch that stole Christmas?"

"I have heard of it, but I have not seen it. And my heart is not full of unwashed socks, Cadet."

Jim laughed in spite of himself. “Here," he said quickly, "I’ll sing you a better carol. How’s this? It’s my personal favorite:

_“Away in a manger, no crib for a bed,_

_The little Lord Jesus laid down his sweet head,_

_The stars in the sky looked down where he lay_

_The little lord Jesus asleep in the hay._

_The cattle are lowing, the baby awakes,_

_But little lord Jesus no crying he makes_

_I love Thee, Lord Jesus, look down from the sky,_

_and stand down my cradle till morning is nigh.”_

He finished and stared at the Vulcan Professor. “Well, what do you think?”

Spock nodded. “Very nicely sung. You have immense skill, Cadet.”

“Thank you.” He felt hot in the cheeks as he blushed. He noted the intently staring Mr. Spock blushing, too, dark green in the pointed ears, or at least it looked like blushing.

“The only problem Cadet, is that while I appreciate your Christmas cheer. I am, in fact, Jewish.”

“Jewish? There’s Vulcan Jews?”

“Indeed.”

“Oh, well,” Jim said. “It’s your lucky night. I have just the song for you:

_"Oy Chanukah, Oy Chanukah_

_a yontif a sheiner,_

_A lustiger; a freilicher_

_nito noch a zeyner_

_Alle nacht in dredlech_

_Shpiln mir,_

_zudig heise latkes, es un a shir_

_tsindt kinder gesvinder_

_Di dinike lichtlech ohn._

_Lumir ale singen_

_Und lumir ale shpringen_

_Und lumir ale tantzen in khur._

_Lumir ale singen_

_Und lumir ale Shpringen_

_Und lumir ale tantzen in khur.”_

“Fascinating,” Professor Spock replied, sounding distinctly impressed. “You know ‘Oh Chanukah’ in Yiddish.”

“Yeah. Just in case.”

The dark brown eyes seemed amused. “I appreciate the effort, Cadet, but Chanukah is over with. It ended on December 16.”

“Oh...uh...sorry.”

Spock held up a device that appeared to be a small camera, he pointed it straight at Jim.

“Taking a blackmail photo of me in my Victorian costume?” Jim joked.

“Negative. I would like to put your photo on Instagram. To document the occasion. By your permission, of course.”

“Sure,” Jim said, smirking. 

“What filter would you prefer?”

“I don’t know.”

“What about X-pro II? That one appears to flatter you the most.”

“Alright. That sounds fine.”

Spock lowered the camera when he had finished. “Do you have any more Christmas carols in your repertoire?”

“You bet.” Jim said, finding himself becoming slightly flirtatious with the admittedly gorgeous Vulcan standing before him, who in this doorway, didn’t seem that far off in age, not like how he was in the classroom. Those bow shaped lips, beautiful. Those doey brown intent eyes, stunning. That breathy voice, arousing. Jim found himself wanting to lick those pointed ears. And the goddamned Vulcan utilized social media, too.

“Then, please continue, Cadet.”

“Only if you call me ‘Jim’. It’s the winter Break, Professor.”

Spock nodded. “Then you must call me Spock.”

Jim smiled and sang:

_“Oh the weather outside is frightful_

_but the fire is so delightful_

_and since we’ve no place to go_

_let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!_

_It doesn’t show signs of stopping_

_And I’ve brought some corn for popping_

_the lights are turned way down low_

_Let it snow! Let it snow! Let it snow!_

_When we finally kiss goodnight_

_How i’ll hate going out in the storm_

_but if you really hold me tight,_

_all the way home I’ll be warm!_

_The fire is slowly dying_

_And my dear we’re still goodby-ing_

_but as long as you love me so_

_Let it snow! Let it snow! Let it snow!”_

At that point, suddenly, snow started to fall outside. 

“Oh my God,” Jim said. “It’s snowing!” Snow in San Francisco, by the bay, how about that.

“Would you like to come in?” Spock asked.

“Yes,” Jim said. “It’s freezing out here.”

“While I do agree that it is very cold out, that is not why I am inviting you in, Jim,” Spock said, very deliberately.

“It’s not?”

Spock moved aside, so Jim could come through the door. Spock shut it behind him and they stood together in the entryway of the apartment. “I must confess that I...have a velvet fetish.”

“A velvet fetish?”

“Yes. I am...if you would forgive me...quite enamored with your costume of choice. I am rather...attracted to you. If you do not mind me saying.”

“Oh...” Jim said. “Well...uh...” He blushed again. “I’m glad you like my attire.” He doffed his top hat. “I do take pride in my Victorian caroling.”

Spock lowered his gaze, gave him the once over and looked into his eyes. “You do appear rather fetching in your purple Victorian velvet frock coat and top hat, if I may be so bold. Jim. And your last carol, seemed to me, less of a Christmas carol and more like an instruction or a command.”

Jim swallowed thickly. He felt himself beginning to harden in his trousers. “A command?”

“Indeed. If I may quote: ‘When we finally kiss goodnight‘ and ‘If you really hold me tight’. It appears to me that this song is a proposition.”

Jim’s breathing grew heavy and his dick threatened to break right on out of his pants. 

Spock got closer to him, without touching. “Is that not correct, Jim?” he whispered into Jim’s ear. 

“Do you wanna...” Jim fought against stammering. “Do you wanna touch my coat?”

Spock’s green tongue darted out and licked his lips. “Yes,” he breathed. His long fingers reached out and stroked Jim’s velvet coat. “Ohhh,” he said, softly. “Feels quite nice.”

“Doesn’t it?” Jim whispered back.

Spock reached out to caress Jim’s chin. “And men in make-up. Especially red lipstick. That is also a fetish of mine.”

“Any other fetishes?”

“Victorian Christmas carolers.”

“Ah...well then I came to the right place--umph--” Suddenly Spock’s warm mouth was on his. The kiss immediately became passionate, deep, their tongues wrestling, and they were still only standing in the entry-way. Spock pushed against him, Jim felt the tell tale hardness against his thigh. He was certain Spock could feel his. 

They broke apart briefly. “Sofa.” Spock pointed. “Over there.” 

Spock dragged him over to the couch and pulled him down. Jim felt the fabric of the sofa as he landed on it. Green velvet couch. “You weren’t kidding about liking velvet.”

Spock was busily mouthing Jim’s neck, giving him small bites on his shoulders, fingers working to undo the buttons on the frilly white silk shirt. He quickly arrived at the last button, then pulled it out of Jim’s black trousers. “Take your trousers off and this shirt, but keep the coat and hat on.”

“You got it,” Jim said and did what was commanded of him.

As soon as Jim was naked, but for the frock coat and his top hat, his stiff aching, leaking cock laying proudly on his stomach, Spock knelt down in front of him. “Aren’t you gonna take your uniform off?” Jim asked. 

Spock’s huge erection was very visible under the fabric. “No.”

Spock grabbed onto Jim’s cock then took him in his mouth. He worked Jim expertly, Jim moaning and gasping, bringing him close to orgasm, then pressing onto his vein to stop it, then sucking on him again. He licked a long stripe down the organ then pulled back. “Jim, turn over.”

Jim did. Spock pulled him up to all fours, folded up the frock coat on Jim’s back, and slid his tongue into his anus, past the tight little pucker. Jim gasped. 

Spock rimmed him for long moments, driving Jim wild. He then slid a solitary finger inside him. “Ah...tight. Are you a virgin?”

“Well...” Jim gasped out. “I’ve only...been with women. Why? Are you gonna fuck me in the ass? That what you’re gonna do?”

“Yes, I am. Is that amenable to you?”

“Oh hell yes, I want to feel your big cock inside me. You got lube, I hope?”

“I do, right here.”

“Goddamn you are prepared.” Spock lubed up a finger and slid it into Jim’s rectum. “Oh shit, you are fucking prepared.”

“I am not hurting you, am I?”

“No.”

“For this being your first time penetrated you are rather relaxed. You are not inhebreated are you?”

“No way, had four beers hours ago. I’m stone cold sober, Spock. This part I’ve done before. Girls have stuck their fingers inside me. Never had a cock up there though. Want you to fuck me, so fuck me.”

Still, Spock took his time preparing him so much so that Jim began begging him to hurry up and fuck him and fuck him hard.

Spock slid his fingers out of him. “Certainly.” 

Jim flipped over and stroked Spock’s cock through the fabric, he leaned over and licked the erection. “Take this uniform off.”

“No.”

“Are you gonna fuck me while wearing your uniform?”

“This first time I am.”

“Oh...Jesus...” Jim gasped. Maybe they’d fuck a hundred times tonight. He was up for it, hell yes. 

Spock pushed Jim onto a sitting position on the couch. “Look at me while I pull my penis out, Cadet,” he said. “I wish for you to tell me if you like my cock.”

“I already know I am gonna like it.”

“Tell me if you like it.”

“Fuck, yes.”

Spock slid down the zipper of his pants. He thumbed out his organ. “Is it large enough? Do you like it?”

“Goddamn, that thing is huge. I want to put it in my mouth, Spock.”

“Then put it in your mouth. Suck on it if you like it so much. Cadet.”

Jim sucked on Spock’s huge green cock, while Spock stroked the velvet on Jim’s arm. “Velvet feels so lovely to the touch,” he murmured. 

Jim hummed as he ran his tongue around Spock’s penis and deep throated it. This was the very first time he’d ever given someone a blow-job so he simply did what he himself liked. Spock tilted his head back and seemed to be enjoying himself so that was encouraging.

Suddenly Spock pulled Jim off of his penis and flipped them around. Spock sat down on the couch, and pulled Jim to straddle on top of his lap. “I wish to enter you, like this.”

“Perfect,” Jim said. “Whatever you want to do, is fine.”

Jim reached down, took that huge green cock and managed to get the head inside of him, pushing it through his entrance. It hurt but only briefly. He was determined to shove that cock inside of him, so he pushed down hard onto it, until Spock was inside him, up to the hilt. They waited for Jim’s body to adjust to the invasion of that huge organ. Then Jim began to move, up and down and up and down.

It wasn’t long before Jim cried out and came, a ribbon of white semen shooting out onto Spock’s black uniform. Spock flipped them around, pushed Jim onto the sofa on his stomach, smearing the semen on the sofa. He folded up the frock coat on Jim’s back again, then slid his dick inside, fucking him hard, all the while stroking the velvet coat. “Oh...so nice,” Spock murmured before he came deep into Jim’s ass.

And that was only the first time. They made a mess of Spock’s uniform and his green velvet sofa, but Spock didn’t seem to mind much. 

Then they moved to the bed and made a mess of that. 

 

* * *

Cadet Kirk and Professor Spock stood very stiffly side by side in the BART station. Both were clad in Victorian Caroling attire. Spock’s frock coat was green which matched Jim’s purple velvet coat. Both had matching striped scarves and fingerless gloves. Travelers walked past, threw credit chips into their hat as Jim and Spock sang:

_“And they told me,_

_Par rum pum pum pum_

_a newborn king to see_

_par rum pum pum pum_

_“Our finest gifts we bring_

_par rum pum pum pum_

_rum pum pum pum_

_rum pum pum pum.”_

Then Jim sang while Spock continued on with ‘The Little Drummer Boy’:

_“Peace on Earth_

_Can it be_

_Years from now_

_Perhaps we’ll see_

_see the day of glory_

_see the day when men have good will, live in peace, peace on Earth.”_

Then both:

_“Every child must be made aware_

_Every child must be made to care_

_care enough for his fellow man_

_to give all the love that he can!”_

Then Jim:

_“I pray my wish_

_Will come true_

_for my child_

_and your child too._

_He’ll see the day of glory_

_he’ll see the day when men of good will live in peace, live in peace on Earth again._

_“Peace on Earth,_

_Can it be?”_

“Merry Christmas, T’hy’la,” Spock whispered to Jim.

“Merry Christmas,” Jim replied.

___________  
fin


End file.
